I wrote this poem in April of 2022:
I’ve been called an exclamation mark before
But I feel more like a question mark
Because I always ask questions like:
Why am I like this?
How do I get rid of anxious thoughts?
Where does my heart really reside?
What is best for me?
Who will love me?
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
a lot of us search for someone or something
to complete us or make us feel like we are enough
we’ve been brainwashed by society’s conditioning
that we’re incomplete without a lover
or without our career goals satisfied
and this is really toxic and false narrative
we need to stop believing in
we should look instead for the amazing in the ordinary
and appreciate how it’s a gift to just be human and exist
I wrote this poem in March of 2023.
we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, “I’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again
I wrote this poem in March of 2025.
Listening to my writing playlist while high
a lot of songs about men begging the women
to come back
Interesting
It is a hidden fetish, fantasy I had
a man continuously
suffering for me
regretting the day they fumbled me
I wrote this poem in February of 2025.
With a fiery madness, she survived and made it out alive
tragedy after tragedy, diagnosis after diagnosis
she questioned how or why she did it
Many stood astonished at how she kept herself together
and composed even as her life and her body fell apart
but after a while it was easy for her to triumph
after every devastating plot twist
she was something else
a mixture of manic pixie girl and goddess
she was special
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
this is a dangerous road I’m traveling on
smiling at your messages
Creating a playlist inspired by you
romanticizing every interaction we have
liking every single one of your posts
Wondering if you’re safe enough
To get to know you
beyond the walls of this simple friendship
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
I’m looking for the rhythm of a new heartbeat to fall in love with
A heartbeat that goes with the flow of my intense intimacy
A heartbeat who doesn’t call me angel or princess
only calls me by my name
a heartbeat who’ll fall in love with the real me
and not the idea they have of me
or the persona I play on social media
A heartbeat who can handle my crazy and chaos
A heartbeat who accepts and understands me
and never tries to change me
I wrote this poem in January of 2025.
wrap me up in your sunshine
and allow me to feel your warmth
melt down my frigid walls
with your fire
I wrote this poem in January of 2022.
I fall in love easily
Reckless without abandon
Wanting to give him
My everything
This is my fairytale
I am sixteen
I fall in love with caution,
with time, with patience
with acceptance
Wanting to give him
My forever
This is my fairytale
I am 23
I fall in love immediately
Impulsively, sexually
Wanting to give him a love
he’s never known before
This is my fairy tale
I am 37
I fall in love with laughter,
With dancing, with practicality
I want to give him my life
This is my fairytale
I am 39
I fall in love with my body
With my creativity, with my resilience
I want to pour all the love I have
Into myself
I am 40
This is my reality
I wrote this on New Year’s Day of 2022.
Another new year, and there are no resolutions
Another new year and no better or new me
Another new year, and I’ll keep my expectations low
With a cautious dose of faith and hope
I want a year full of peace and calm
Where love for myself continues to be enough
Writing, running, and working fill up my time
Another new year and loneliness is not eating me up
and freedom feels like solitude
and this vacation from dating feels heavenly
and music and books are all of the pleasure I need
Another new year, and I just want to continue this journey
of healing from the past and self-discovery
It’s another new year, and for once, I have everything
I want in life
I wrote this poem in December of 2024.
Alfonsina Storni found me on a cold november night
and it was what my spirit needed to be resuscitated
into feeling something
Alfonsina Storni found me on a cold november night
and I couldn’t wait to show mami
she dedicated Hombre Pequeñito to Papi
and we laugh at his expense for a minute
Alfonsina Storni found me on a cold november night
and I watched her 1957 bio pic with mami
we stood in awe at how progressive it was for its time
but at the same time understood how much progress
still needed to be made for woman kind
I wrote this poem in December of 2023.
not sure when a new muse will appear
I just gave up on my most recent one
I can take a hint
he’s not interested
he’s scared because I’m too crazy
and will fuck up his life
and maybe he’s right
maybe I’m not healed enough,
not intelligent enough
maybe for him I’m just not enough
and this doesn’t make me angry
I’m in the acceptance phase
I’ll no longer bother him
I’ll just let him be
I’ll just wait for a new muse to appear
out of nowhere from my dreams
into my real life
my manifestation game is strong
though sometimes my aim is off
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I still smile at my phone every time I get a text from you
and ugh-crush season is here again-
even as I constantly say, nope, it’s over
we’re better off as friends,
I’ll never be enough for him
So I avoid you but you appear in my dreams
Sometimes we’re a thing,
other times you appear in the background
and I can’t even make it a week
without texting you-and haha-
Surprise, surprise I still like you and ew-
a crush in my middle age
it’s so fucking embarrassing
I wrote this poem in December of 2024.
Sometimes I miss our rollercoaster of toxicity
even when you came back to me sober
you still managed to emotionally dysregulate me
and destroy me
and while I’ve tried to find a replacement for you
no one holds a candle to you
no one brings me the level of excitement you once did
everyone feels meh and blah
compared to you, everyone is mediocre
I wrote this poem in November of 2024.
Inti came out in full force today wanting to play
and it lit a light inside of me
Fierce and ready to run towards the potential
inside waiting to be taken advantage of
Life on the BPD 